


Steve's VW Beetle

by AwaitingWinter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Darcy Lewis-centric, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Prank War, Road Trip!, Team Captain America's Volkswagen Beetle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 13:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17183477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwaitingWinter/pseuds/AwaitingWinter
Summary: Darcy slights a certain ex-assassin with a face full of glitter. And then they get piled into Steve's goddamn clown car.ORDarcy doesn't realise Bucky's been flirting this entire time, so Steve and Sam decide to speed things up a little.And she's terrible at keeping grudges.





	Steve's VW Beetle

“I can’t fit,” Darcy groaned, “It’s just not gonna happen.”

Sam sighed, “I know it’s tight, but Steve’s a dumbass and this is the car he brought along.”

“It’s _covert_.” Steve stressed, “and it’s worked well enough.”

Her worries weren’t made any lighter by the steely gaze of the ex-assassin in the back seat. The guy who’d swapped out her usual coffee to decaf this morning and gotten away with it because of his ‘I’m traumatised, I can barely even leave my room’ puppy eyes. The ‘I’m a delicate flower who needs constant praise’ stubble. His red-tinged ‘I’d never lie to you guys, I’m honest as can be’ lips.

He definitely noticed the whole staring at his lips. He looked strangely proud.

Darcy wasn’t trying to insinuate the man hadn’t gone through some shit. He had, and he was worse off for it. But he wasn’t a walking time-bomb. The way people tip-toed around him was infuriating. Like, how had he possibly survived his ordeal up until this point otherwise?

Bucky knew it, as well. He had made quick work of milking everyone’s preconceived ideas to get away with being a major shit. At least he was having his fun.

She wondered if Steve and Sam were in on it too.

Bucky would constantly derail her attempts at retribution by following up with even more outrageous tricks. So unbelievably devious, yet subtle, that no one would believe it was him. She'd reluctantly learned to stop accusing him of what were so clearly his actions, and to instead glower in silence whenever she caught his gaze.

She might have started it. By _pure_ accident of course, as a lot of interactions she had tended to go, but he had taken it as a challenge. An invitation to Royally Piss Her Off.

The glitter in the vent was meant for Clint. A nice surprise the next time he went spelunking through the conveniently person-sized network that ran through the tower. Sgt James Buchanan Barnes catching her straight above some exercise room was an unprecedented defect to her plan. One that freaked her out so badly she dumped the package straight onto the infamous face that was peering up at her.

She had never scrambled away from somewhere as fast as she did at that moment. The pure comedy of a shocked and bedazzled war hero accompanied by the sounds of retreating screams and thumps were almost enough to make it a satisfactory endeavour. Almost.

They hadn’t spoken much during their prank war. His preferred method of communication was such niceties like placing the good snacks onto the top shelf, so she’d have to scale the communal kitchen fixtures, or slipping several Iron Man™ branded condoms into the back pocket of her jeans before a meeting.

 **BRIGHT** red ones.

 _Her_ preferred method of communication wasn’t even the slightest bit as sneaky as his. Darcy’s thing was being loud and out there, and she didn’t exactly have any sorta talent associated with stealth, but that didn’t stop her. She had the superweapon none other had managed to snag. Natasha.

The spy had gotten quite a surprising kick out of the Captain America lingerie set (very much not an officially licenced product) that was delivered to the sergeant’s door. And Darcy was happy with the like-minded ally she had gained.

Nevertheless, she had been selected for the unfortunate excursion, and Cap wasn’t having her griping. As the resident ‘civilian’, she found herself roped into a lot of things to bring some sense of pseudo-normalcy to the superhero gang _._ ‘It’d be good for Buck’s frame of mind’, he insisted, ‘he needs to know he can be around people who aren’t soldiers’.

And when he said, ‘around people’, he must’ve _really_ meant it. Steve’s blue Volkswagen Beetle was what a clown car was to buff 6-foot-something superheroes. It’d barely fit this trio, she could imagine, let alone a well-endowed woman like herself. How come the two people with the thickest thighs were expected to squeeze in together at the back?

Not that she’d noticed his legs, or anything.  

Sam was still standing there, waiting for her to get seated so he could take his own spot. It was the only semblance of a motivation she had to go back there. Sam was on map duty, and whenever she sat in the front seat of any road trip she’d always zonk out. They’d veto-d her suggestion to sit up front immediately.

Darcy sighed. She had to do this. She had to put herself right next to Bucky without letting him know she was intimidated. After all, glitter was still cropping up on his face and in his hair after weeks upon weeks. He had every precedent to be terrified of her wrath. Glittery, _get into places you didn’t even know existed_ , wrath.

And she did. She twisted herself past Sam's folded seat, right into the free back seat.

Unfortunately, she had overestimated her brief journey, and landed more than a little of herself on his lap. She quickly apologized and attempted to find more space further away from him. And then it became clear that the only way she could sit in the back would be to be all over Bucky. One of her legs were practically swung over his even as she tried to make herself compact as possible.

Sam had paid it no mind. Or had and would make fun of her later. He was in his spot quickly enough, and his unfurled seat had pressed her further into the back of the car and into the rock-hard arm of the guy next to her. This wasn’t even the metal one, for god’s sake.

Steve set off, driving the desperate excuse of a form of transportation out of the garages, and making casual conversation with Sam.  

Darcy was too terrified to try to gauge Bucky’s expression, but her terror didn’t often get her out of making mistakes.

She was only going to look to scoff at him, she promised herself. Under the guise of trying to readjust, she’d have a quick peek – all the while trying to seem as disgruntled as possible.

The muscles under her touch flexed the moment she moved. His face was a lot closer than she had thought, and his blue eyes were set on her.

If this is what hyperventilating felt like, she didn’t think she’d survive much longer.

“Comfortable there, doll?”

That Brooklyn drawl. This was a critical hit and everyone in the godforsaken car knew it. He had even accentuated it by a flutter of his lashes.

Sam sounded eerily like he was stifling a giggle. Steve was less obvious about it.

Darcy had not spoken even near enough with the man to withstand old-timey pet names, or that gruff of a voice that close to her ears. But she wasn’t going to back down, even as it’d turned out, the insufferable bastard had a direct line of communication to her baser desires.

This would make a shameful addition to her spank bank material.

“What does it look like, big guy?” Darcy attempted to fire back. The shake in her voice didn’t escape him. Of _course_ it didn’t.

His line of sight drifted down her face, down to her neck, before flitting right back up. He had on a smirk that screamed trouble.

The newly familiar warmth of his arm slipped away, leaving Darcy with a slight sense of disappointment she wasn’t ready to admit to. And then found it’s new hold on her legs.

_Oh Sweet Jesus._

In one swift motion, he had pulled hers over his own, leaving her back nestled in a well-cushioned corner and a hand wrapped around her ankles. His thumb began drawing barely-there circles almost instantaneously. 

“Now?”

The motherfucker was _right_. It was much more comfortable. And all she could offer as an answer was a flustered look on her face.

Sam finally burst into laughter, and Steve’s eyes, as she caught them from the rear-view mirror, looked bright. Darcy could only guess he was smiling.

He had done the impossible. Left her speechless.

She looked away to preserve some modicum of decency. This called for revenge.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally just wanted to write about being in the VW beetle with the rest of the gang. Specifically in close proximity to Bucky. Enjoy! 
> 
> P.S.  
> This is a largely reformed sorta Bucky. I like reading about his recovery quite a bit, but I wanted to go for the more playful aspect of his personality - I'm not trying to de-validate his trauma or anything, so I hope it doesn't come across that way :) Darcy's just v sexually frustrated


End file.
